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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28145733">myocardial infarction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StickyKeys1/pseuds/StickyKeys1'>StickyKeys1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>RFMD Extras [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Muggle, Crushes, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Harry is awkward as hell, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Matchmaking, Movie Night, Mutual Pining, Roommates, Sane Tom Riddle, Scary Movies, Tom Riddle is Not Voldemort, Tom is a little weirdo, grad students, i wrote this in post-finals anxiety while waiting for my grades</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:20:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28145733</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StickyKeys1/pseuds/StickyKeys1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I like you,” Harry manages to stammer. It’s possibly the understatement of the year, because he really, really, really likes Tom. More than he’s ever liked anyone.</p><p>aka</p><p>A Muggle AU of an AU. Harry has a crush on Tom, his sister’s roommate who might be a little bit too into his grad school research. Tom has a crush on Harry. Ruby has a very Slytherin plan, involving a very scary movie.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter &amp; Ruby Potter, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle &amp; Ruby Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>RFMD Extras [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062536</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>145</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>myocardial infarction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The thing about writing Running From My Destiny mostly in advance is that the plot bunny keeps having plot bunnies, and I've been reading a lot of Tom/Harry stuff, so this was the result. Tom is obviously severely OOC with regards to canon, but pretty in character for RFMD.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">Harry hasn’t even admitted to Ruby that he has feelings for her roommate (for the past nine months now, this was getting pathetic), and he told his sister literally everything.</p><p class="p2">She asked one time, but he brushed her off, saying that sure, Tom Riddle was objectively really attractive, but no, he did not have a crush on him.</p><p class="p2">Famous last words.</p><p class="p2">God, what was wrong with him? His life has been going well. He’d gotten a great job working for Hogwarts Industries straight out of undergrad, paid off his thankfully small student debt, and now he has to go and fall for someone completely out of his league.</p><p class="p2">Harry didn’t know anything about romance or relationships. Schoolwork never came easy to him, and he spent every waking moment studying and stressing out about his grades. And now, at a time where everyone else seemed to be settling down after undergrad, he felt horribly behind. Why would someone like Tom want to be with someone as inexperienced as Harry?</p><p class="p2">Like most Friday nights, Harry finds himself sitting on the living room floor of Tom and Ruby’s flat while they argue.<br/>
Seeing his sister, who is all five-feet-two-inches of pure, righteous anger spar with her roommate, who’s quite a bit taller than Harry himself might be more entertaining if Harry wasn’t trying to concentrate on not giving any signs of his giant, embarrassing crush on Tom.</p><p class="p2">Ron would never let him live it down. Besides, he’s just getting out of ending arguments by saying ‘Cho Chang.’ Harry really can’t afford to give him more ammunition.</p><p class="p2">Currently, they’re arguing about the mug of chocolate ice cream that seems to have appeared out of thin air and is in danger of spilling on the pristine white carpet that Tom is so proud of. </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Is that ice cream, Tom?” Ruby asks. “Where the fuck did you get ice cream from?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom shakes his head, licking the back of the spoon.</span>
</p><p class="p2">“You don’t even like chocolate ice cream.”</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Can I have some ice cream? Please?” Harry asks hopefully. <br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Chocolate is the one thing Harry isn’t above begging for.</span>
</p><p class="p2">Tom nods, sticking the spoon in his mouth again as he gets up and shuffles into the kitchen.</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Why?” Ruby whines. “I’m your roommate!”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You’re a bitch,” he mutters, his voice muffled by the spoon. Harry snorts. Something slams shut in the kitchen; it sounds like the freezer.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Hey!”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“And you wouldn’t share the popcorn last time.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom comes back into the living room, handing Harry a mug filled generously with ice cream and a spoon.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“What are we watching?” Harry asks, trying not to be flustered as Tom’s fingers brush his.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“The Exorcist,” Tom says calmly as he sits cross legged on the other side of Ruby. Harry’s partially miffed that Tom didn’t sit next to him, and partially glad to have a buffer between them.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Isn’t that a horror movie?” Ruby asks, looking very fearful and inching closer to Harry. Although maybe she’s trying to steal his ice cream. Not going to happen.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You’re doing a Masters’ in biology for fuck’s sake,” Tom snaps. “Stop being a baby, you’re not even scared of blood. There’s actually a fairly accurate cerebral angiography in it. It’s quite similar to the technique we’re working on.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He taps a finger to his lips. “Speaking of that, we need to go in Sunday morning to sacrifice the mice in Cage A.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Ruby groans, slumping against Harry.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom side-eyes her. "You did remember to put the lid on the PBS before you left, didn't you? If I find out that my culture got contaminated, your life won't be worth living."</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Boo. You’re such a nerd. No wonder Salazar is so far up your arse.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Contrary to his sister, Harry thinks Tom is at his most alluring when he’s talking about his MD/PhD research, which all sounds like total gibberish to Harry since he never bothered to take a biology class in undergrad, but seeing that passionate spark in Tom’s eyes makes him wish that he had. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You mean Professor Slytherin?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Ruby flicks her brother’s cheek, and he winces.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Perks of being a grad student, you get to call the PIs by their first names.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom sighs loudly and stretches his legs out. "Look, are we going to watch the movie or not? If you're too scared, we can watch something else."</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Ruby sits upright, flipping her hair behind her shoulders and looking very determined. "Ugh, fine. I'll shut my eyes."</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Harry can't help but notice that she's got a scheming look on her face. He wonders what she could possibly be planning that involves the three of them and a horror movie.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Right. I’m putting it on.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Harry has to admit that even he is a bit creeped out. About ten minutes in, Ruby decides she can’t take it anymore and disappears off to her room to call Hermione because she’s afraid she’ll get nightmares if she falls asleep.That leaves just him, Tom, and the empty, cold mug pressed between his fingers.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom is staring at the screen unblinkingly, not the least bit disturbed.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Apparently that’s a very medically accurate portrayal of a cerebral angiography in the 1970s,” he says as blood spurts out of someone’s neck. “They used to use the carotid artery — that’s the one that is often occluded during a stroke, but now we use more distant blood vessels. Less risky.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">All Harry can do is nod. He can’t think of anything intelligent to say.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Alright. That is seriously disturbing,” Harry says finally as The Exorcist reaches the one hour mark, scooting closer to Tom in absolute defeat. Forget dignity, he needs comfort. “This film is seriously fucked up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">Tom smirks. “Want me to hold your hand, Potter?”</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Please,” Harry mutters, without really thinking about it. All of a sudden, Tom’s warm fingers are curling around his, pressing against his palm. Harry’s throat goes dry and he feels like he’s about to have a heart attack (or as Tom would say, a myocardial infarction).</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">If holding hands with Tom bloody Riddle felt like this, Harry would probably die of happiness if Tom ever kissed him.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Not like that was ever going to happen.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, I think I’m done,” says Harry after a few more minutes. Somehow, it’s gotten exponentially worse. “I feel sick. I might throw up.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom pauses the movie, and Harry’s not sure if he’s actually more worried about Harry, or his precious carpet.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Do you have feelings, Riddle?” Harry asks, clutching his stomach. “How can you sit through that?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No, I’m not fucking alright, Tom! I’m fucking traumatized!”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom tosses him the remote.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Watch some sparkly princess shit then.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“What?” Harry gapes.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Even I have my limits. It works. I promise.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Harry shudders. “I don’t want to even imagine what kind of movie would give you nightmares.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He gratefully presses play on the brightest, sparkliest cartoon he can find on Netflix.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“My Little Pony?” asks Tom, the corners of his mouth quirking.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Harry curls inwards as the chirpy theme song starts playing. He feels only a little bit better.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Therapy, Tom. I need therapy and hugs and unicorns and cuddles.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Do you still feel sick?” Tom asks, reaching out to pet Harry’s head in an awkward gesture — bloody hell, the man must be trying to kill him.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I’m not going to ruin your carpet if that’s what you mean!”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t care about the carpet,” says Tom.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Harry blinks. </span>
</p><p class="p2">“Well, all I know is that I’m not going to sleep tonight.”</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">In the bright, blaring light of the television casting strange lights on Tom’s face, with their fingers curled together and having just survived an hour of the worst images Harry has seen in his life, telling Tom Riddle the truth doesn’t feel that scary.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I like you,” Harry manages to stammer. It’s possibly the understatement of the year, because he really, really, really likes Tom. More than he’s ever liked anyone.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, you’re alright too.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom is petting his hand now. He must think Harry is so traumatized by the The Exorcist that he’s regressed or something.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Princess Twilight something or other is doing some kind of magic spell. Tom has the exact same engrossed look on his face that he did with the horror movie.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He’s honestly such a weirdo, but Harry finds it endearing.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He turns the volume down.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tom, I’m serious,” Harry says. “I like like you.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">God, maybe he has regressed. Harry can’t imagine a clumsier confession.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He doesn’t know, because right now Tom is staring at him with a mixture of shock and... no, actually, just shock.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">What has he done?</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom is going to hate him, now.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom’s hand is on the side of his face, making Harry’s skin burn. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Why would he do that?</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">All of a sudden, Tom’s face is very, very close.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">It’s at that moment that Harry realizes, oh shit, he’s actually going to kiss Tom Riddle.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">So maybe Harry doesn’t actually die of happiness, but it’s pretty close. Tom’s lips are soft and warm and Harry’s heart is beating so hard and so fast that it might escape his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom still tastes like chocolate, and all Harry can think is that he really likes chocolate, and he really likes Tom.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“So, uh,” Tom says, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Do you still need therapy and hugs and unicorns and cuddles?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Something clicks in Harry’s head. Ruby hasn’t come back yet. He can’t hear her and Hermione’s conversation, but she normally would come back to look around the kitchen or bother Tom. Especially since she wasn’t going to sleep. In fact, she’s been remarkably quiet tonight.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Ruby planned this? Didn't she?” he asks slowly.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tom’s grin widens. Harry can’t believe what an arsehole he is.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Ah. I was wondering why she wanted to watch a scary movie. But it worked, didn’t it?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Harry’s about to respond when Tom kisses him again.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Maybe, just maybe, he might get over The Exorcist. As along as Tom makes sure that he doesn’t fall asleep. </span>
</p>
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